


The Potter Rants Notebook

by daisyrachel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Friends, Friendship, M/M, slight stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:36:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyrachel/pseuds/daisyrachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as Draco began to speak again, Blaise had a possessed idea. “Draco, wait one moment. I just need to get my stationary. I promised I’d write my father a letter.” Draco objected, but he quickly got up to retrieve his quill and parchment. He sat back down, and Draco continued. Rather than writing a letter to his father, he wrote down everything Draco said, word for word.</p><p>	This is rather amusing, thought Blaise, scribbling down Draco’s sentences as quickly as he could, perhaps I should do this more often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Potter Rants Notebook

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this from a tumblr post... I don't even know what to say tbh. Enjoy!

Blaise Zabini was exhausted. When his father told him “be friends with Draco Malfoy, no matter what the circumstances” he didn’t know that circumstances would involve listening to him rant about the younger Potter.

 

            Draco was obsessed. Every day, they came back to the common room, and Draco would talk to him, and _only_ him, about the precious “Boy Who Lived”. He assumed it was because Draco’s two regulars, Crabbe and Goyle, were not the most intellectual blokes Slytherin had to offer. He remembers his father very clearly saying “Associate yourselves with the Crabbes and the Goyles, but don’t become their friends. That’s Malfoy’s territory, and they’re not really worth it anyway.”

 

            Maybe Draco was in love with Potter. That would make a lot of sense. Blaise was mature for his age, his father always told him that, and understood that some people liked the same gender as themselves. The more scandalous part of that was Draco’s love for a Potter, rather than a boy. The Malfoys were a rather traditional family though. Maybe they cared about that sort of thing.

 

            Blaise was awoken from his thoughts by a hard slap to the back of his head. “Ow!” he exclaimed, looking up unsurprised at an annoyed Draco Malfoy. “What did you do that for?”

 

            Draco looked angrier by the second. “Were you even listening to me at all? Blaise, what was I talking about? What was I talking about three seconds ago?”

 

            Blaise smiled inwardly. He knew Draco had been talking about Harry Potter before he had zoned out, and once Draco started talking about Potter no one could stop him. “Of course I was listening Draco. You were talking about Potter and that awful thing he did in Potions today.” Or was it Charms? It didn’t really seem to matter with Draco.

 

            “It was Charms, actually.” Damn. Almost right. “But you did just remind me, he did the most horrendous thing in Transfiguration today.” As he had already thought, it didn’t really matter with Draco.

 

            Just as Draco began to speak again, Blaise had a possessed idea. “Draco, wait one moment. I just need to get my stationary. I promised I’d write my father a letter.” Draco objected, but he quickly got up to retrieve his quill and parchment. He sat back down, and Draco continued. Rather than writing a letter to his father, he wrote down everything Draco said, word for word.

 

            _This is rather amusing_ , thought Blaise, scribbling down Draco’s sentences as quickly as he could, _perhaps I should do this more often_.

 

* * *

 

            A few months later, copying down Draco’s rants had become somewhat of a thing in the Slytherin common room. A few years later, it was a Slytherin tradition. Blaise had done it on his own for a few weeks, making sure to write dates, when he told Pansy Parkinson about his pet project. She had been amused, and asked if she could join in. A couple of more girls their year got involved, and a couple of kids the year above them did as well. They rarely missed a rant.

           

            “Parkinson,” his father had said at Christmas break that year, “I forgot they had a daughter your age. Be kind to her; she’s a Sacred 28. They’re important if we’re going to land on top.” Father was all about winning you see; and he believed the best way to do so was by staying as neutral as possible.

 

            “Mother was a Sacred 28,” he had said, “You told me so.” Blaise had never mentioned his mother to his father again after that.

 

            But more importantly, he came back from that Christmas with a father amused about his hobbies, and a large enough supply of Quick-Quotes Quills to keep the new Slytherin pastime continuing for years to come. They had doubles, even triples of most rants. Sometimes when Draco yelled loudly in the common room, the next day twenty rant sheets would be handed to Blaise discreetly during breakfast.

 

            Everybody wanted to get in on the craze. The rules were simple for first-years, and anybody slow enough to not join in the beginning. You write ten rants by hand, you get a Quick-Quotes Quill. After that, it’s just a matter of circumstance. If you’re one of the seven people that have written the most rants, you’re on the council.

 

            The council met once every other month, to discuss important matters, such as how to bind the pages together properly, and how to properly censor and curses or slurs that might fall out of Draco’s mouth in a fitful rage. There were the seven rotating members, and then the three permanent ones; Pansy Parkinson, a girl a year younger than him named Astoria Greengrass, and, of course, Blaise. Often people questioned the choice of Astoria, a normally quiet girl who kept herself out of trouble. But it was nights like these ones where she proved to be as amazing as he thought she was.

 

            February of Blaise’s fifth year, he was faced with the incredible prospect of Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, or OWLs. However, the OWLs forced him, along with his fellow fifth years, to realize that they would eventually be graduating and getting real jobs in the Wizarding World. School did not last forever, which is why Pansy Parkinson’s question that evening was not a shock.

 

            “What are we going to do with the rant book?” She asked one cold, council-meeting night. “We’ve been doing this since first year, but why? Like, what’s our end goal? Because I will _not_ allow this to turn into a soppy graduation gift.”

 

            Ideas flitted around the table. “We should read it aloud to the school on his birthday,” suggested the ever-mischievous, sixth-year Carter Yaxley, “We could get him drunk enough that he might not even care!”

 

            “We could force him into a room, and just have him read the entire thing over and over again for a week,” Mitchell Selwyn thought out loud. People kept yelling out ideas, but nothing stood out as extremely interesting or funny. However, the council kept yabbering on until Blaise realized that Astorisa, only a fourth year then making her the youngest and quietest member of the council, had been rasining her hand silently for a few minutes now.

 

            He silenced everyone quickly and pointed towards her. “Why don’t we give it to Potter after they start dating?” She was met with confusion, and with an exasperated look on her face, continued, “Look, we’ve all seen this coming right? I mean recently he’s been talking more about how infuriating Potter’s eyes and how he hates his kindness. It’s quite obvious; they’re not subtle at all. It’s going to happen eventually, so why not sweeten the pot for the both of them?”

 

            Everyone was stunned to the point of silence. They had been listening to more about the hue of Potter’s hair lately, but none of them had thought to consider the significance. Astoria was the only one observant enough to understand, and she was entirely right. Smiling widely, because he _knew_ he was right about this girl, he just _knew_ , he said “All in favor?”

 

            Eleven hands went up. Pansy raised both of hers.

 

* * *

 

            Throughout the rest of their fifth year, council meetings consisted of two things; compiling the rants into volumes (one for each of their school years), and scheming to get Potter and Malfoy together. Several possibilities were thrown out.

 

            “Hex them so that they have to hold hands for any entire day!”

 

            “We could slip them truth potions and then lock them in a room together?”

 

            “Maybe we should just let them get together themselves, on their own time.”

 

            There had been no new advances by the beginning of their sixth year. Blaise sat on the train with Pansy, Astoria, and Draco. Astoria had grown very beautiful over the summer. She was taller, her skin was tanner, and her dark hair was fuller. But besides the new Astoria developments (developments being that he might be a little attracted to her), nothing new had happened.

 

            The council’s very first meeting of the year consisted of a lot of confused whining about how Draco hadn’t gotten his head out of his arse over the summer. One of the fifth years on the council had been talking to the youngest Weasley that morning, and apparently after a whole summer of her flirting with Potter, she had gotten an admission of his sexuality.

 

            When Theodore Nott was enough of an idiot to ask what that meant, Pansy yelled “It means he’s gay, you idiot!” Nott looked at Pansy quizzically, and she blushed a little under his intense stare. _Huh_. _To each their own I guess_ , though Blaise, while stealing a quick glance at Astoria.

 

            Exactly as he looked at her, she gave him a small smile and asked if she could be excused from the meeting early. He, of course, said yes, as he had no reason to say no. She ginned even wider, and walked out of the room with a slight spring in her step. Blaise would’ve wondered what she was doing, if he wasn’t too busy watching her walk out the door.

 

* * *

 

            The next morning was a blur. Draco wasn’t in the dorm when the rest of the Slytherins woke up. They went searching for him before breakfast, and found him in a classroom, pinned to a table by none other than Harry Potter.

 

            The two said that the previous evening they had been wandering the halls (separately, of course), when a figure knocked them out. The next thing they knew, they were locked in a classroom, and had both ingested what appeared to be a very strong batch of Veritaserum.

 

            After what was a very long night, full of many confessions and realizations, they had ended up in the position they had been found in. (Horizontal. With their shirts off.)

 

            Blaise’s eyes moved quickly towards Astoria, who smiled and then shrugged. When she could see him beginning to understand, she winked at him, and gave a little laugh. As Blaise thought about the newest Astoria development (development being that he might be a little in love with that crazy girl), he insisted that everybody go to breakfast.

 

* * *

 

             News travelled fast at Hogwarts. Twenty-four hours later, everybody knew that Potter and Malfoy were dating. The next day at breakfast, Pansy made a big deal about standing on top of the Slytherin table, and yelling for the whole Great Hall to shut up. Blaise and Astoria went to stand next to her after everyone grew quiet and Pansy invited the happy couple to the table.

 

            Blaise launched into the story of how the notebook had come into existence, and all the work that had put into maintaining it over the years. Draco’s face looked like a tomato because of how much he was blushing, and Potter couldn’t catch his breath because of how hard he was laughing. At the end of his speech, Astoria presented every volume of the notebook they had to Potter.

 

            But in a shocking turn of events, some of the Gryffindors began to talk after they were done. Potter was quickly humbled when Granger and Two Weasleys presented Draco with all the drawings Harry had done of him over the years; starting out with first year, when the drawings had devil horns and ugly mustaches, up until the beginning of this year when they were fraught with every detail of Malfoy’s face.

 

            After all the presentations were over, the disgustingly adorable couple kissed, and the whole of the Great Hall broke into a chorus of “Awww”s. Granger and the youngest Weasley were talking to Astoria a feet away from hi. “Just think if we had cooperated years earlier!” she was saying. “We could have had easily twice the product we do now!”

 

            Blaise smiled to himself, content with the way he had spent the past few years. Hobby indeed.


End file.
